In process of time, Isabella found herself the mother of five
children, and she rejoiced in being permitted to be the instrument
of increasing the property of her oppressors! Think, dear
reader, without a blush, if you can, for one moment, of a mother
thus willingly, and with pride, laying her own children, the 'flesh
of her flesh,' on the altar of slavery-a sacrifice to the bloody
Moloch! But we must remember that beings capable of such
sacrifices are not mothers; they are only 'things,'
'chattels,' 'property.'
But since that time, the subject of this narrative has made
some advances from a state of chattelism towards that of a
woman and a mother; and she now looks back upon her
thoughts and feelings there, in her state of ignorance and
degradation,
as one does on the dark imagery of a fitful dream. One
moment it seems but a frightful illusion; again it appears a terrible
reality. I would to God it were but a dreamy myth, and not, as
it now stands, a horrid reality to some three millions of chattelized
human beings.
I have already alluded to her care not to teach her children
to steal, by her example; and she says, with groanings that cannot
be written, 'The Lord only knows how many times I let my
children go hungry, rather than take secretly the bread I liked
not to ask for.' All parents who annul their preceptive teachings
by their daily practices would do well to profit by her example.
Another proof of her master's kindness of heart is found in
the following fact. If her master came into the house and found
her infant crying, (as she could not always attend to its wants and
the commands of her mistress at the same time,) he would turn
to his wife with a look of reproof, and ask her why she did not
see the child taken care of; saying, most earnestly, 'I will not
hear this crying; I can't bear it, and I will not hear any child cry
so. Here, Bell, take care of this child, if no more work is done
for a week.' And he would linger to see if his orders were
obeyed, and not countermanded.
When Isabella went to the field to work, she used to put her
infant in a basket, tying a rope to each handle, and suspending
the basket to a branch of a tree, set another small child to swing
it. It was thus secure from reptiles and was easily administered to,
and even lulled to sleep, by a child too young for other labors.
I was quite struck with the ingenuity of such a baby-tender, as
I have sometimes been with the swinging hammock the native
mother prepares for her sick infant-apparently so much easier
than aught we have in our more civilized homes; easier for the
child, because it gets the motion without the least jar; and easier
for the nurse, because the hammock is strung so high as to
supersede the necessity of stooping.